


Storybrooke's Music of the Night

by EmeraldSymphony



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5666278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldSymphony/pseuds/EmeraldSymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Emma meets Storybrooke's "ghost writer," Henry introduces her to the Phantom's Once Upon a Time. And it seems as though he remembers his past life! But can they save him from his own madness, or is he doomed to a fate worse than his last?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Think of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone. This is a work that I had published on another site years ago. I still like the story, but I thought that it could be improved, so hopefully you enjoy this rewrite of sorts. Also, this is my first time using this site, so this should be exciting.

Emma Swan knocked on the door of an old, dark house. She was ordered by "Madame Mayor" Regina to go to the home, for reasons left ambiguous. Though Emma was suspicious of how dark and dreary and almost depressing the old house seemed compared to the bright atmosphere of Storybrooke, she didn't think that it warranted an investigation. Still, she was the sheriff and she had her orders. After a minute there was still no reply. So she knocked again.

"This is the sheriff," she said. Just as she was about to knock for a third time, she heard a voice say "come in". She opened the door, which let out a loud creak. The inside of the house was quite dark, with curtains covering all the windows so that only a small amount of light could peek through and a somewhat dimply lit chandelier hung from the ceiling. She didn't even notice that someone was in the same room until she saw a figure stand up from the couch, which caught her by surprise.

"I apologize for not answering the door sooner," the man said. "I usually don't answer unless it's somebody important. What can I do for you, Sheriff Swan?"

"I was just here because the mayor ordered me to," Emma replied. "I don't know what, though, she didn't say. I hope I'm not bothering you too much Mister...."

"Specter. My name is Erik Specter." Emma extended her hand to him. He hesitated for a moment before gingerly shaking it. Emma couldn't help but notice his hand was ice cold and felt bony. Now that he was standing close to her, she could see what he looked like. He was dressed in a fine dark suit with a white cravat knotted at his throat, making him look like he could give Mr. Gold a run for his money in terms of being overdressed for everyday occasions. The most unusual thing that she noticed he was wearing was an elegant dark hat with a black veil attached to the brim, which fell right above his mouth.

"I don't think I've seen you before," Emma said.

"I'm not surprised. I don't like getting out very much unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Hi, Emma," a little voice said. Emma looked behind Erik and saw Henry smiling like there was nothing wrong.

"Henry!" Emma exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Just visiting."

"He's rather pleasant company," Erik said. "I don't often enjoy the company of other people, but I rather enjoy spending time with him."

"I guess my mom sent you to pick me up, huh?"

"Uh... I guess," Emma replied.

"Figures," Erik said. "Madame Mayor doesn't seem to like me very much, let alone let her son be around me."

"Well, you aren't alone in that department. All right, Henry, let's go."

"Hold on one moment," Erik said. "Are you busy tonight, Sheriff Swan?"

"No, I shouldn't be."

"Then perhaps you'll be interested in seeing the opera being performed tonight at the Storybrooke Theater. I want everyone to see how far my student has come. She's the lead role."

"Sure, I'll be there." The two said goodbye to Erik and entered Emma's bright yellow car.

"Hey, Emma," Henry said. "can we stop at Granny's? There's something I want to show you."

"Sure, Henry," Emma replied as she started up the car.

A few minutes later they arrived at Granny's Diner. They were seated and served by Ruby. As they were waiting for their hot chocolate and cinnamon, Henry pulled out his _Once Upon a Time_ book and flipped to a page that had a picture of a dark cloaked man with a white mask covering half of his face. He was steering a boat with a young woman in white as a passenger across a misty lake. "Look at this. The Phantom of the Opera. That's who Erik is."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, why else would he be wearing that hat?"

"Maybe he's just got a bad sunburn?" Henry frowned at her. "Hey, it was just a joke."

"Anyway, I wanted to show him this the next time I saw him and ask him about it."

"What makes you so sure about this."

"Trust me, I think he knows more than he lets on."

********

 

_Think of me_

_Think of me fondly_

_when we've said goodbye_

_Remember me_

_Once in a while_

_please promise me you'll try_

_On that day_

_That not so distant day_

_When you are far away and free_

_If you ever find a moment_

_spare a thought for me_

Carlotta, the star soprano of the Enchanted Forest's Royal Opera House, was presenting her talent for the new managers of the opera house by singing an aria from the premiere of the new opera, _Hannibal._ Everyone watched and listened intently as she sang. The two managers were especially enthralled.

_Think of me_

_Think of me w-_

Suddenly, the backdrop came crashing down and landed right on Carlotta.

_He's here_

_The Phantom of the Opera_

Everyone was in a panic and didn't calm down until Mme. Giry, the ballet instructor, struck the bottom of her cane against the floor. But Carlotta was still very angry, despite being unharmed. Then they saw something fluttering down from the top of theater. It was a letter, which Mme. Giry caught.

"It's from the Opera Ghost," she said. "He says that he welcomes you to his theater-"

" _His_ theater?" One of the managers asked.

"And that he expects his private box, Box 5, open for him and to remind you that his salary of 20,000 gold."

"This is ridiculous!" the second manager said.

"I would advise you to comply, M. Andre and M. Firmin; the Ghost does not take kindly to those that do not obey his orders."

"Speak for yourself," Carlotta said with a huff.

"Please, Singnora, these things do happen!" Andre said. Carlotta glared at him.

"'These things do happen'?" she snarled. "I have been working here for five years, and what have a been told every time something like this has happened? ' _These things do happen'_! Well _this_ no not happening! "

"Carlotta, wait!" Firmin pleaded, but she was already storming out of the theater. To rub it in, the leading man, Piangi, quipped "amateurs!" as he walked past them. "Oh dear, now what are we going to do? La Carlotta has no understudy!"

"Christine Daae could sing it, sir!" a young blonde girl said. "She knows the part perfectly!"

"The chorus girl?"

"Let her sing for you, monsieur," Mme. Giry said. "She has been well trained." Christine took a deep breath and held a beautiful scarf in her hands. Her whole body felt as though it was shaking, but she told herself to not collapse under pressure; she wanted to please her instructor.

_Think of me_

_Think of me fondly_

_when we've said goodbye_

_Remember me_

_Once in a while_

_please promise me you'll try_

_On that day_

_That not so distant day_

_When you are far away and free_

_If you ever find a moment_

_spare a thought for me_

 

********

 

Everyone at the Storybrooke Theater was in awe at the newest leading soprano, Christine Danner. The usual leading lady, Charlotte, was suddenly absent, but Christine was perhaps even better than her. And her beauty certainly caught the audience's eyes as much as her voice caught their ears. 

"Can it be?" a young man sitting in one of the boxes asked. "Can it be Christine? Bravo!"

_Long ago,_

_It seemed so long ago,_

_How young and innocent we were_

_She may not remember me,_

_But I remember her_

_Flowers fade,_

_The fruits of summer fade,_

_They have their seasons so do we_

_But please promise me that sometimes_

_You will think_

_of me!_

After Christine hit the final note, the entire audience stood up and cheered. For the first time in her life, Christine felt proud of herself; every one of those people clapping were clapping just for her, and she couldn't hide her smile. Wearing the elaborate costume, with all the lights and eyes on her made her feel like a star.

And she wasn't the only proud person watching.

 

 

 


	2. Angel of Music

Erik looked at the small framed picture in his hand. The lights were quite dim as always, but he didn't mind. In fact, he preferred the darkness to the light. The light would always be there to expose you, to show the world your weaknesses. But the darkness could hide you and protect you from the prying eyes of those that wish to take advantage of your vulnerability. The darkness gave him more comfort than the light ever could.

The picture that he was gazing at was of Christine. How he loved everything about her, from her gentle nature, to her dainty brown curls, to her sapphire blue eyes, even the elegant way she walked, he loved it all. The picture was faded, the glass had a small crack, and the frame was worn, but always carried it in his breast pocket nonetheless, so that it could always be close to his heart. The memory of when his heart was broken by her was still fresh in his mind, but he wasn't going to let that hinder his goal: This Curse was a new beginning for him, a second chance, and he wasn't going to waste it.

"May I come in?" a familiar voice said.

"What do you want?" Erik replied coldly.

"Now, Erik, dearie, is that any way to greet an old friend?" Mr. Gold stepped through the door, being only half invited. Dearie. How he hated it when he called him that. Who did he think he was?

"I don't believe that we've ever established a friendship." Erik didn't even turn around as he sat in his chair, yet Gold continued talking even as Erik's back was turned to him.

"Are we really going to discuss technicalities?"

"Us being even remotely close to being friends? Pshaw." Gold let out a sigh.

"Look, Erik, we've both lost something- someone- very close to us. But you're lucky; you have a second chance to get back the one you love. And I can help you with that. How about it?"

"No thanks. I'm quite capable of doing things on my own and you're the last person I want to make a deal with." Gold shrugged his shoulders.

"Suit yourself. But remember my door is always open. Dearie." It took Erik every last ounce of self control to not Punjab Gold right then and there, or at least "accidentally" drop the small chandelier on top of his head. But Gold got to walk away again unharmed. So Erik simply sighed and placed the picture back in his breast pocket. He needed to leave soon anyway; he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he missed Christine's Storybrooke premiere. Luckily, getting to the theater wouldn't take too long at all. He opened the false back of the nearby closet and walked through the passageway.

 

********

 

Christine was still giddy from the excitement that night. She had changed out of her costume, cleaned her face from the elaborate makeup she was wearing, and changed into her long white dress. She had several bouquets of sweet-smelling flowers in her dressing room and made the whole room smell like a garden. Then there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said. It was her best friend, Mel Gearing, the lead ballerina, still wearing her white tutu. She quickly ran into the room and gave Christine a hug.

"Oh, Christine," she said. "I'm so happy for you. But what's your secret? It just seems like your voice bloomed overnight."

"It's... oh, you'll never believe me."

"Come on, tell me! Please?"

"Well..."

_Father once spoke of an angel_

_I used to dream he'd appear_

_Now as I sing I can sense him_

_And I know he's here_

_Here in this room_

_He calls me softly_

_Somewhere inside hiding_

_Somehow I know_

_He's always with me_

_He the unseen genius_

Meg took Christine's hand in her own.

_I heard your voice in the shadows_

_Distant from all the applause_

_I saw your face in the darkness_

_Yet the words aren't yours_

 

_Angel of Music_

_Guide and Guardian!_

_Grant to me your glory!_

_Angel of Music_

_Hide no longer!_

_Secret and strange angel!_

 

_He's with me even now_

_Your hands are cold_

_All around_

_Your face, Christine, it's white_

_It frightens me_

_Don't be frightened_

There was another knock at the door.

"Yes?" Christine said. A handsome looking man with black hair opened the door and was carrying a small bouquet of flowers.

"Pardon me, miss, but I hope you don't mind if I ask to be alone with Christine," he asked. Mel gave Christine a smile before heading out the door.

"Do I know you, sir?"

"Don't you remember me, Little Lotte? I'm the boy that saved your red scarf."

 

********

 

"I'm the boy that saved your red scarf, Little Lotte." Christine looked into the man's eyes for a moment and then smiled.

"Yes," she said. "When I was fourteen you fetched my red scarf when it flew out to sea. Oh, Raoul!" She practically leapt into his arms, much to his surprise. "How long has it been?"

"Far too long."

_Little Lotte, let her mind wander._

_Little Lotte thought, "Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or of shoes?"_

_Or of riddles or frocks?_

 

_Those picnics in the attic._

_Or of chocolates._

  
_Father playing the violin_

  
_As we read to each other, dark stories of the North_

  
_No, "What I loved best," Lotte said,_

 _"Was when I'm asleep in my bed."_  
  
_And the angel of music sings songs in my head,_

_The angel of music sings songs in my head._

 

"Raoul," Christine said. "My father promised to send me the Angel of Music from heaven. And now he is here. He gave me the voice you heard tonight."

"Oh, I have no doubt," Raoul said. "And tonight, we leave for supper."

"What?"

********

 

"Christine, let's go to dinner. My treat."

"Randal, I'm sorry, but I can't: I promised my teacher that I'd wait for him after the show. He's very strict and will not be pleased if I don't keep that promise."

"I'm sure he is. I'll meet you in ten minutes, Little Lotte."

"Randal!" But he was out the door before she could stop him. She wanted to meet him and make up for lost time, but things just weren't the same anymore. She had changed in those years and he probably did too. "Things have changed, Randal..."

_Insolent boy!_

_This slave of fashion!_

_Basking in your glory!_

_Ignorant fool!_

_This brave young suitor!_

_Sharing in my triumph!_

_Angel, I hear you,_

_Speak, I listen!_

_Stay by my side,_

_Guide me!_

_Angel, my soul was weak,_

_Forgive me!_

_Enter at last, master!_

 

_Flattering child, you shall know me,_

_See why in shadow I hide._

_Look at your face in the mirror,_

_I am there inside!_

 

Christine gazed into the large, floor length mirror and saw the shrouded figure of her angel.

 

_Angel of Music,_

_Guide and Guardian!_

_Grant to me your glory!_

_Angel of Music hide no longer!_

_Come to me strange angel!_

 

_I am your Angel of Music,_

_Come to me, Angel of music..._

 

"Who is that voice, who is that in there?!" Randal shouted as he banged on the door.

"Randal!" Christine cried.

"Pay him no mind, my angel," Erik said as he slid open the mirror. "Come with me." He extended his hand towards her. She hesitated for a moment before taking it and letting him lead her into the mirror. Just as the mirror was sliding closed again, Randal ran through the suddenly opened door.

"Christine! Angel!" He cried. But all that was there was a few remnants of mist in the air.

 

 

 

 


	3. The Music of the Night

_In sleep he sang to me,_

_In dreams he came_

_That voice which calls to me_

_And speaks my name_

_And do I dream again?_

_For now I find_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside my mind..._

 

Erik guided Christine through the dark passageways beneath the Storybrooke Theater with only a lantern for light. He knew that Christine would easily get lost in such a place, so he tightly held her hand, something that he was still not quite used to even though he had done this years ago.

 

_Sing once again with me_

_Our strange duet_

_My power over you_

_grows stronger yet_

_And though you turn from me_

_To glance behind,_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your mind..._

 

They made it to the underground lake, where lanterns lined the walls. Erik carefully guided her into the boat before stepping into it himself. He noticed that Christine was shivering, so he removed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders before beginning to row.

 

********

 

_Those who have seen your face_

_Draw back in fear_

_I am the mask you wear_

_It's me they hear_

_Your/my spirit and my/your voice_

_In one combined_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your/my mind_

 

_He's there,_

_The Phantom of the Opera_

_Beware,_

_The Phantom of the Opera_

_In all your fantasies,_

_You always knew,_

_That man and mystery_

_Were both in you_

_And in this labyrinth,_

_Where night is blind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your/my mind_

 

_Sing, my Angel of Music_

_He's there,_

_The Phantom of the Opera_

_Sing..._

 

********

 

_Sing, for me!_

 

Christine hit a note she never knew she had the skill to. She held her hand to her heart when she finished, feeling as though it was beating faster than a hummingbird's wings. When she finally caught her breath, she looked around her surroundings. The entire room was only slightly lighter than the dark corridors they just passed through and was very sparse. An organ was in the corner across from them and a sofa sat at the wall closest to them with a bookshelf and a grandfather clock next to it.

"Erik," Christine said. "Where are we?"

"This is my home," he replied. "Christine... I... wanted to tell you something. I have studied music for nearly all my life and it is one of the few things that give me a reason to continue living. And I... I want..." Erik tried to say something, but he couldn't think of a single word. So he sang to her, the same song he sang to her years ago, the song he poured his heart into.

 

_Nighttime sharpens,_

_Heightens each sensation_

_Darkness stirs_

_And wakes imagination_

_Silently the senses,_

_Abandon their defenses..._

_Slowly, gently,_

_Night unfurls its splendor,_

_Grasp it, sense it,_

_Tremulous and tender_

_Turn your face away_

_From the garish light of day_

_Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light_

_And listen to the music of the night_

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams,_

_Purge your thoughts from the life you knew before_

_Close your eyes_

_Let your spirit start to soar..._

_And you'll live as you've never lived before_

_Softly, deftly,_

_Music shall surround you,_

_Hear it, feel it,_

_Secretly posses you,_

_Open up your mind,_

_Let your fantasies unwind,_

_In this darkness which you know you cannot fight..._

_The darkness of the music of the night..._

_Let your mind start a journey to a strange, new world,_

_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before,_

_Let your soul take you where you want to be!_

_Only then can you belong to me..._

 

Erik hesitated for a moment as he stood behind Christine. Then he took a deep breath before gently wrapping his arm around her shoulders, barely touching her at first, before letting his arm fully rest against her. He felt her gasp, but to his relief and delight she soon relaxed against his chest. And he found himself holding him against her more tightly, letting himself feel her warmth against her body as her head was cradled in the crook of his arm and gently sung into her ear.

 

_Floating, falling,_

_sweet intoxication_

_Touch me,_

_Trust me,_

_Savor each sensation_

_Let the dream begin,_

_Let your darker side give in,_

_To the power of the music that I write_

_The power of the music of the night..._

 

Erik looked at Christine's face and saw that she was smiling at him. The sight of it made his heart leap; He had seen her smile many times before, but never for him. It was the first time he made her smile and he loved it even more than her usual smiles, knowing that this one was just for him. He even found himself smiling in return, something he rarely found himself doing. Perhaps things really were changing for him. He led her over to a large object covered by a black silk cloth. He pulled off the cloth to reveal a broken mirror with a mannequin in Christine's likeness and wearing a beautiful white wedding gown and veil and holding a bouquet of flowers. He gestured towards the mirror and Christine cautiously walked towards and examined it. As she extended her arm to touch the mannequin, it suddenly collapsed towards her, causing her to faint. Erik quickly caught her and carried her to one of the bedroom and placed her in the large, antique bed. He gently stroked her cheek as he sang the last words into her ear.

 

_You alone can make my song take flight..._

_Help me make the music of the_

_Night..._

 

 

 


	4. Stranger Than You Dreamt It

 Christine was awoken by the soft melody of a music box. As she stretched her arms, she looked around the strange room. She was sitting in a large bed with white sheets and canopy. It was quite dark save for a bedside lamp on a table next to her. Other than that, the room was quite sparse. She stepped out of bed and out of the room.

 

_I remember there was mist_

_Swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake_

_There were candles all around_

_And on the lake there was a boat_

_And in that boat there was a man..._

 

She looked across and room and saw Erik sitting at his organ, completely focused on what he was doing. He had several pieces of manuscript paper spread in front of him and was writing music notes on it with a fountain pen. His jacket was placed on a nearby coat rack, but he was still wearing his hat. He was so focused on what he was writing that he didn't even seem to notice how close Christine was to him, so close that she could easily touch him. Especially his hat...

Christine knew that what she wanted to do was probably wrong, but she couldn't help her curiosity. And surely she deserved to know what her instructor looked like, especially since he had been teaching her for as long as he had.

 

_Who was that shape in the shadows?_

_Whose is that face in the mask?_

 

With one swift motion, she pulled off Erik's hat by the brim.

"No!" he cried as he covered his face with his hands and shot up from his seat, knocking it over in the process. After the brief moment of shock wore off, he dug his fingernails into his flesh. He could feel his blood boiling in his veins. He wanted to destroy something, even if he was going to tear the skin off his face.

_No,_ he told himself. _I must remain calm. I can't lose my temper in front of her again…_

OoOoOo

 

Erik swiped his arm across the organ as he turned around to face Christine, knocking over his inkwell and causing it to shatter to the ground and leave a dark, spattered puddle of ink.

_...Damn you!_

_You little prying Pandora_

_You little demon, this is whanted to see…_

_Curse you, you little lying Delilah!_

_You little viper!_

_Now you cannot ever be free!_

_Damn you, curse you..._

 

Then he collapsed to the ground, and crawled towards her like a snake, one hand still covering his face while the other reached out towards her. He was almost pitiful looking.

_Stranger than you dreamt it_

_Can you even dare to look, or bear to think of me_

_This loathesome gargoyle_

_Who burns in hell,_

_But secretly yearns for heaven_

_Secretly, secretly..._ _But, Christine..._ _  
_

_Fear can turn to love_

_You'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster_

_This repulsive carcass_

_Who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty,_

_Secretly, secretly..._ _Oh, Christine..._

OoOoOo

"C-Christine," Erik said shaking as he stood up. He had suddenly began to feel lightheaded and stumbled as he tried to keep his balance. "I-I know that… that you are curious… yes, w-we are all at some point… but some… some thing are better left…" He turned his head around and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; he couldn't even look at his own reflection and turned away. "…they are better left unseen… I… I don't blame you for that… but you don't want to see this face… please, Christine..." He tried taking a step towards her, but he collapsed and fell on his knees and silently wept. Christine knelt down next to him and held on to his hand so he wouldn't try to attempt getting back up. With her slender fingers, she combed his hair back before replacing his hat, making sure not to look at his face.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I won't let that happen again. I promise." Erik looked up at her. Had she willing shown his affection? Have the pieces fallen in their place?

"Thank you," he said as he stood up with her, "But we must return; those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you."

 

OoOoOo

 

"Mr. Chanly, we can't file a missing person's investigation if she's only been missing for less than a day."

Randal had practically ran into the Storybrooke police department almost as soon as it opened. He was frantically telling Emma everything that had happened last night, so fast that Emma had a hard time listening to everything he was saying. While she did want to help him, she was still the sheriff and she had to follow the rules.

"Sheriff Swan, one moment she was there, and the next she was gone! And there was this strange voice from behind the door! What if-"

"There is no need to panic, Monsieur," a woman's voice said.

Right behind Randal was a woman in a long black dress and gray hair tied in a bun carrying a walking stick. Next to her was a young girl with blonde curls and wearing a white tutu. "Mlle. Danner is safe at home."

"Can I see her?"

"No, monsieur, she doesn't wish to have any visitors."

"She needs rest," the girl added.

"But there are two angry managers and one angry soprano at the theater that want to see you. I think you ought to see them. Come, I'll take you there." Randal followed the two out of the station and a minute later Emma saw their car drive away.

Emma thought about what Randal had told her. A strange voice... when he said that she immediately thought of Erik's voice. It wasn't quite like any voice she had ever heard. But it was by no means unpleasant. In fact, it was quite beautiful, melodic one might say. He could be reading a book on the anatomy of insects out loud and she would be content. She wondered if that was whole Randal had meant...

No, that couldn't be right. How could Erik be there one minute and disappear the next? The dressing room only had one door, after all.

When her break came around in the afternoon, she drove Henry to Erik's house to show him his book. Apparently it had something to do with Operation COBRA. Emma wasn't going to believe Henry's theory about magic in the town, but she supposed there was no harm in humoring him. She watched as he knocked on the door.

 

OoOoOo

 

"Damn it!" Erik hissed as he felt the hot water hit his skin. He was not a clumsy person, but today he was quite distracted; first he had lost all of the music he was writing and had to rewrite every note and now the incident with Christine this morning. He hated it when he couldn't even focus on the simplest of tasks.

As he rinsed his hand in the sink with cold water, he heard a knock at the door.

"What is it?" he asked perhaps a bit too harshly.

"It's only me," Henry replied.

"Ah, Henry, come in. I apologize for my harsh tone. I was afraid that Mr. Gold wanted to bother me about my house payments again. Would you like some tea?"

"No thanks. Actually, I wanted to show you something."

"Oh? What is it?" Henry opened up his book and showed him the pictures from about the Phantom. Erik discreetly smiled, but didn't say a word until he was finished. "What an interesting book, Henry. But why did you want to show me?"

"Well, you see... I was wondering if.. if you..."

"If I'm the Phantom of the Opera?" Henry looked up at him visibly surprised. "What would you say if I told you that I was?"

"Well, I would probably ask how you remember who you are while almost everyone else can't."

"I can't use magic, but I have a strong immunity to it. The curse cold bring me here, but it couldn't erase my memory."

"Really? How did you survive in the Enchanted Forest if you couldn't use magic?"

"I didn't need it when I mastered the art of illusion. I could cheat death with a turn of my heel and could trick people into thinking that what I was doing was magic."

"Wow. Well, in that case-" Suddenly, the door creaked open. Regina was standing there with a scowl on her face and her arms folded across her chest.

"Henry, it's time to come home," she said. "Go wait in the car; I'd like to have a word with Mr. Specter."

"But-"

"Now." Henry quickly gathered his book and ran outside. When he was gone, Regina stormed up to Erik until she was nearly touching his veil. They both gave each other unflinching stares and neither one was intimidated. "I don't know what you're planning, but if you know what's good for you, you'll stop filling my son's head with those foolish stories."

"Are you giving me orders, Madame Mayor?" Erik spat. "I'm flattered your majesty, completely flattered; at first you didn't give a damn about me until you found a use for me back at the forest, and now you're pushing me around like the rest of your subjects who are too afraid to do a thing about it. I'm truly honored. And we both know that those are more than just stories in the boy's book, don't we?" Regina was silent for a moment.

"I'm not going to tell you again," she said. "I had better not catch you indulging in my son's silly fantasies. Remember that I have ways of getting you to stay quiet." She slammed the door shut on the way out.

Erik sighed as he looked as his burnt hand. It had stopped hurting and was only a little bit red. One day the mayor's power would be gone and he and Christine could live a happy life in peace. It was that thought alone that made him willing to go on living day after day. And no Madame Mayor was going to put a damper on those plans.

 


	5. I Gave You My Music

"I refuse to stand for this!" Charlotte shouted as she tore apart the letter in her hands. Charlotte, Randal, and the two new managers Andrew and Francis were all reading the ominous letters they received from someone called the "Opera Ghost" who demanded that his orders be obeyed, which included giving him his "salary" of $2,000 this month, his private box five left empty for him, and that Charlotte play the silent role of the pageboy in the upcoming production of Il Muto and that Christine play the lead role of Countess. But none of them were exactly very enthusiastic about doing so.

"I would not speak in such a way here," Mme. Gearing said. "He could be watching us right now."

"Oh? And are you perhaps in alliance with this 'ghost'? Or perhaps the heir, that new brat's lover, is the one who's been sending these letters."

"Preposterous!" Randal exclaimed.

"Everyone, please calm down!" Andrew said. "Christine will play the pageboy."

"And Charlotte will be playing the lead," Francis added. But this did not quell the diva.

"You're just doing this to appease me!" she yelled with a stomp of her foot. "Don't think you can win my favor so easily!"

 

_Your public needs you_

_We need you too_

 

_Would you not rather have your precious little ingénue?_

 

_Signora, no_

_The world wants you_

 

_Prima Donna,_

_First lady of the stage..._

 

"They're not going to listen to us, are they?" Randal said as he watched the two managers fawn over Charlotte.

"I'm afraid not," Mme. Gearing sighed. "I fear what will arrive in the coming months."

"But surely if this person isn't just playing cruel pranks on us they couldn't possibly do that much damage."

"I would not be so sure of that. The Angel does not take kindly to those who disobey him." Randal couldn't help but think that all this talk of angels and ghosts haunting the theater was nonsense. If there really was a ghost, then why didn't he just use more force to get his way instead of sending letters? And why would he be so obsessed with Christine? Surely he had better things to worry about. But he supposed that in time he would see the outcome.

Months passed and the opening night for Il Muto arrived. Meg was angry when she found out that Christine didn't get the lead.

"You're a much better performer than Charlotte," she said. But Christine simply smiled and performed at the best of her ability as she always did, even though she never had to say a word.

Erik had asked Emma to see this opera as well. While Emma wasn't exactly an opera enthusiast, she supposed that since she wasn't busy that night, it wouldn't hurt to go out. Plus, he promised that something "unexpected and exciting" would happen. Whatever that meant.

Erik was standing on the catwalk right before the show was about to begin. Across from him was one of the stage crew members, Jason Bringham, who couldn't see him since Erik was safely tucked away in the shadows on the far end of the catwalk. Earlier he had noticed that the two managers and the vicomte, which he still called him despite him being simply an heir to a wealthy businessman, were sitting in his private box. But he wasn't angry. In fact, he was delighted. Because now they will know the full consequences of their disobedience and he had to admit that he would enjoy seeing the fear in their eyes all over again.

A few minutes later the curtain rose to reveal several actors in elaborate Rococo costumes. As everyone sang, Christine was practically a mime who did little more than smile and move about when needed.

 

_Serafimo!_

_Away with this pretense!_

 

Charlotte ripped away Christine's maid skirt and cap to reveal a pair of pants, much to the court's shock.

 

_You cannot speak,_

_But kiss me in my husband's absence!_

_Poor fool, he makes me laugh!_

_Ha ha ha ha ha!_

 

"Look at this, Francis," Andrew said. "The crowd loves it!"

 

_Poor fool, he doesn't know!_

_Ho ho ho ho ho!_

 

_"DID I NOT INSTRUCT YOU TO LEAVE BOX FIVE OPEN?!"_

 

Suddenly the whole theater was silent. It felt as though the force of the voice had shaken the entire building.

 

_He's here,_

_The Phantom of the Opera!_

 

"I know he's here," Christime murmured. Charlotte smacked her against the head with her fan.

"You're part is silent, little toad!"

_"A toad, madam? Perhaps it is you who are the toad!"_

After a brief moment, the scene began again.

 

_Serafimo, away with this pretense!_

_You cannot speak!_

_But kiss me in my husband's ab- croak!_

 

A low laughter erupted through the theater.

_Poor fool, he makes me laugh!_

_Ha ha ha ha croak!_

Insane laughter rang through the theater, as if the voice wanted everyone to hear as the poor diva could only croak.

_"Behold! She is singing tonight to bring down the chandelier! Ha ha ha!"_

The curtain quickly dropped and Andrew ran onto the stage.

"And the role of countess will be played by Christine Danner!" he said. “And now while we deal with a few issues, we’ll now present to you the ballet from Act III!”

The orchestra quickly shuffled through their music before beginning to play the ballet tune. Several dancers in flowery costumes rushed onstage and began to dance.

But the Phantom’s work was not done yet. Bringham was minding his own business as he stood on the catwalk and looked down at the action below. Erik crouched down and quietly walked towards him with a rope in hand. At the very last moment, Bringham caught sight of him and tried to run and yell, but Erik pinned him down and covered his mouth.

“So you managed to survive my last murder attempt,” Erik said as he tied up Bringham’s legs. “I hope you don’t mind me using you again to send a little message.” When he was finished, Erik kicked Bringham off the catwalk, leaving him hanging by a single rope, all while laughing like an insane man as everyone screamed and panicked as Bringham fell onto the stage.

“Someone call a doctor!” Francis shouted.

Randal ran backstage and found Christine still in her costume. He pushed away several people before he was able to approach her.

“Christine!” he cried.

“Randal! Come with me, we aren’t safe here.” She grabbed his hand and led him through the chaos.

 

********

“What are doing this for?” Raoul asked.

“We have to go to the rooftops, he won’t find us there!” Christine answered as she lead him up several sets of staircases.

 

 _Why have you brought me here? Can’t go back there! We must return! He'll kill you! His eyes will find us there! Christine, don't say that._  
  


_Those eyes that burn! Don't even think it And if he has to kill a thousand men Forget this waking nightmare... The Phantom of the Opera will kill... This phantom is a fable Believe me ...and kill again! There is no Phantom of the Opera My God, who is this man... ...who hunts to kill? ...this mask of death? I can't escape from him... Whose is this voice you hear... ...I never will! ...with every breath? And in this labyrinth, where night is blind the Phantom of the Opera is here/there inside my/your mind... There is no Phantom of the Opera..._

********

 

“There is no Phantom of the Opera.” Christine turned around to face him, her eyes filled with fear and looked as though she would cry.

“I’ve seen him, Randal,” she said. I’ve _felt_ him. Oh God, how could I ever forget? His hands were so cold, it felt like a corpse had grasped me from the grave. It felt like Death himself was there. And yet… he was gentle. And somehow I was confident that he would be there to protect me.

 

_But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound_

_In the night there was music in my mind…_

_And through music my soul began to soar!_

_And I’ve heard as I’ve never heard before…_

_What you heard was a dream,_

_And nothing more…_

“Oh, Randal, it wasn’t a dream, I know it. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could feel all the pain in the world when he looked at me. It was as though he was pleading for someone to love him and for him to love in return. My angel… my unloved angel… Oh, my poor Erik!”

Finally Christine could no longer hold back her emotions and collapsed on the ground and wept. Randal was sure that this man was not an angel or ghost, or whatever he fancied to call himself. But if he was causing Christine this much torment, then he would be there to protect her. He offered her his hand, which she slowly accepted, and he held her close to his chest.

 

_No more talk of darkness, Forget these wide-eyed fears I'm here, nothing can harm you, My words will warm and calm you Let me be your freedom, Let daylight dry your tears I'm here, with you, beside you, To guard you and to guide you…_

_Say you'll love me every waking moment Turn my head with talk of summer time Say you need me with you now and always Promise me that all you say is true… That's all I ask of you…_  
  


_Let me be your shelter,_

_Let me be your light_

_You’re safe,_

_No one will find you,_

_Your fears are far behind you_

_All I want is freedom,_

_A world with no more night,_

_And you always beside me,_

_You’ll guard me and you’ll guide me_

_Then say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime_

_Let me lead you from your solitude_

_Say you want me with you here beside you…_

_Anywhere you go, let me go too…_

_Christine, that’s all I ask of you…_

_Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime_

_Say the word and I will follow you…_

_Share each day with me,_

_Each night, each morning..._

_Say you love me…_

_You know I do…_

_Love me_

_That’s all I ask of you…_

Then they shared a long kissed. Afterwards, Randal spun her around in his arms, both of them laughing and happy.

 

_Anywhere you go, let me go too…_

_Love me_

_That’s all I ask of you…_

Suddenly, they heard the loud chimes of the town clock ringing through the air. It was now exactly ten o’clock and Christine had to return to the show.

 

_I must go!_

_They’ll wonder where I am_

_Wait for me, Randal_

_Christine, I love you…_

_Order your fine horses,_

_Be with them at the door_

_And soon you’ll be beside me_

_You’ll guard me and you’ll guide me…_

But with one’s joy came another one’s sorrow. Erik had been standing on a balcony above them the entire time, and heard their proclamation of love. Every voice in his head told him to stop this and say something, to jump down and tell her how much he loved her. And yet, all he did was watch.

“No…” he finally said. “No! It can’t end this way, it won’t end this way! No!”

He slammed his hands against the railing and gripped onto it, not even feeling the pain. How could things have gone wrong again? Where had he failed? Here was his second chance, and everything fell apart.

 

_I gave you my music,_

_Made your song take wing_

_And now, how you’ve repaid me_

_Denied me and betrayed me._

_He was bound to love you_

_When he heard you sing…_

_Christine… Christine…_

He sobbed as he cried out her name. He could still hear the voices of their joy in his head and he pressed his hands against his ears. But he could still hear them sing.

 

_Say you’ll share with me,_

_One love, one lifetime_

_Say the word and I will follow you…_

_Share each day with me,_

_Each night, each morning._

Fine. If this was the way it was going to be, then so be it. He didn’t want it lead to this, but now he was beyond caring. He was desperate and was now more than willing to take drastic measures.

 

_You will curse the day you did not do_

_All that the Phantom asked of you!_

Two hours later, the entire cast was onstage for the curtain call. As Christine was about to take her bow, she noticed the large chandelier starting to shake. Then it suddenly came loose and was hurling towards her.

 _“Go!”_ Erik cried. But Christine was frozen in shock and if it weren’t for Randal pushing her out of the way, she just might have been crushed.

“What the hell was that?” Emma said to herself as she tried to find her way through the chaos. This whole night was like something out of a supernatural novel. And she hoped that this would be the last of any more of these nights; she had enough to last for a long while.

But Erik had only just begun his plans.


End file.
